I think a lot about what it was like when things changed. What did the people who took their horse-drawn carts into town do when automobiles arrived? What about when telephones came along? Those were two technological advances that changed everyone’s lives and society itself. Yet other changes are not so beneficial.
There’s an amazing thing that still happens today but we’re in danger of losing it: the simple act of gathering together, experiencing something, and then talking about it, sharing our thoughts without fear of judgment or ridicule. That’s why last night’s event was so wonderful.
Thanks to my good friend Ann Glenn, I was asked to introduce, screen, and lead discussions of two classic films in the “Hollywood on Hollywood” series at the Busch Annapolis Library. Last Monday we watched and discussed The Bad and the Beautiful (1952). Last night we viewed and talked about Sunset Boulevard (1950), and I just have to tell you about it.
I’ve been facilitating movie discussions for nearly ten years, and I always enjoy them, but my greatest enjoyment comes from seeing other people discover these films and hearing their thoughts. What they’re talking about when they comment certainly has to do with the films themselves, but also touches on what’s important to the person commenting.
If you haven’t seen Sunset Boulevard, you might want to stop reading now, since I’ll be going into spoiler territory.
One woman brought up the idea that Joe Gillis got exactly what we deserved and that we shouldn’t feel sorry for him. I think most people agreed, but someone also pointed out that there must be some good in him: He tried to rescue Betty Schaefer (Nancy Olson) from an even greater hurt by pushing her out of his life and back to Artie’s (Jack Webb). But did Joe learn anything meaningful from his time with Norma? His narration-from-the-dead seems to indicate that, had he remained alive, not much would have changed.
We can somewhat understand Norma’s need to be valued, her bouts of depression, and her tendencies to self-harm when she doesn’t receive the recognition and adoration she believes she deserves. And everyone was simply overwhelmed by Max’s steadfast devotion to Norma. Here was a man who swallowed his pride, who was once married to the star, now content to praise her right up to the end, regardless of what others thought.
All these comments are interesting and often fascinating, but each person is not only commenting about what they’ve just seen. They’re also revealing something about themselves, about ourselves, what matters, and what’s important. I always encourage audiences to feel free to express their comments, even ones that may not be popular. They might just open up our minds to something we hadn’t considered, and here’s a place where we can have those conversations and even disagree, but without verbal (or even physical) abuse.
But it’s also great to see people get excited about movies. One audience member was so fascinated by Norma’s car that she asked me if the Isotta Fraschini Tipo 8A was a real car. I said, “Great question! I don’t know! I’ll have to look it up.” About a minute later, that same lady handed me her phone, and I passed the information along to the audience. Such a fun moment!
One elderly gentleman raised his hand and commented, “I once served Gloria Swanson! I was a waiter in a Howard Johnson’s restaurant and she sat at one of my tables.” We were in awe of this guy! He was an instant celebrity!
I don’t know how many of these people knew each other before we watched the film, but when the discussion ended, people gathered in groups and kept the conversations going. Maybe some of them exchanged contact information and will get together again. I hope so.
When we watch movies by ourselves at home, we can certainly be entertained, but we take something glorious away from ourselves: the chance to see how movies affect other people. You can see it in the eyes of the audience and hear it in their voices when they talk about their favorite moments from the film. To listen to the different reactions to Norma’s expression as she walks down the stairs at the end of the film is fascinating, but regardless of what you think of her, that moment moves you, it evokes a reaction. Moments like that tap into our humanity and open us up. When we share those moments, we share ourselves.
I’ve said this before, but I encourage everyone reading this post to go to your local library and see if they are showing movies. If they are, please attend them when you can. If possible, ask if there can be a time for discussing the films afterward. You don’t need anything structured, just a few minutes to talk about what you saw. You’ll be amazed at what can happen. And you’ll also be building community, something we all need.
Keep watching, keep discussing. Keep it going.